you are more real to me than

those fluorescent lights above my head

skid marks my sneakers made on the linoleum

warmer than

the crack of my icicle fingers on a desktop, unthawing (i get so cold)

the blue shadows that winter light throws

closer than

the fizzled streetlight that always left me feeling like some kind of luna moth, and

slightly shocked

the tissue paper snowflakes the asphalt consumes on contact

sweeter than

the sticky imprint honey abandons on my tongue

you are clearer, sharper, crisper

you are tangible.